I felt my first earthquake last night.
I will say, I didn’t really realize it was a quake at the time. There was a big jolt and then a little residual shaking, and I figured someone had just dropped something heavy on the stairs.
This is partly because the last time I felt my bed shaking in the middle of the night and thought it was a quake, I looked up I saw Chaplin vigorously licking his own ass on the other end of the bed. So I figured this was some similarly silly explanation.
There was also very little knocked over. The only thing that I recall being out of place this morning was a shower squeegee that fell from its perch into the shower.
But when I came in, everyone was talking about how they felt the quake in the middle of the night (member of the accounting team: “I thought, ah hell, am I going to have to get out of bed?”).
I’m just glad the first quake I felt wasn’t some huge Northridge-level quake, but a relatively lame one. Although I’m sure I’ll now be shouting “QUAKE!” and sprinting to the nearest doorframe every time a big truck drives by for the next couple of weeks.